


Shackles of Humanity

by birdsandivory



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ardyn Talking to Himself, Corpse kisses, Depictions of Death, Disturbing Themes, Enemies to Lovers, Lovers To Enemies, M/M, Romanticizing Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-17 21:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12374223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsandivory/pseuds/birdsandivory
Summary: Ardyn strung them up like puppets far above in the Audience Hall, but there was one bloody corpse - Ravus Nox Fleuret - in which he wished to keep close by.





	Shackles of Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to depict how Ardyn would treat Ravus' corpse after Noctis had been consumed by the crystal, and I think I've done it justice. Let me know what you think!
> 
> You can find more of my works on my Tumblr - [birdsandivory](http://birdsandivory.tumblr.com).

_“There is nothing left of you,_

_I can see it in your eyes._

_Sing the Anthem of the Angels,_

_And say the last goodbye.”_

_\- Anthem of the Angels, Breaking Benjamin_

“We could have truly been something, you and I.”

There was no response, only the eerie silence of the Citadel as heavy footfalls perused through the rubble of a once extravagant and lavish bedchamber that had been chosen for his stay, the Chancellor himself uninterested in habits of the mundane - for there was no time to truly slumber, only ponder, only muse of a victory he had long since felt he deserved. And within so empty a colossus, full of the mistakes of past rulers, full of doubt and disdain - he could only focus upon one cold, bloody, breathtaking corpse. 

He knelt beside the carcass, still mostly intact despite the travel, despite dragging it with him to the very place in which he would reside until the King of Kings was allowed into the realm of the living once more. And he was ever so careful, ungloved fingers sweeping tenderly over frigid cheek, lips parted and mouth twisted with silent wails from the rigor mortis - never to truly speak again.

“I thought you fancied me.”

A hum escaped him as he lowered himself thus, lying his torso over the remains of a man whom had once fought for his cause, or at the very least - pretended to. Visage pressed to a chest riddled with lacerations, he could smell the rot of the starscourge that had consumed the Commander, the stench of iron from the crimson that had stained his regal ivory and bathed him in the waters of the Beyond. 

“I thought that, when you looked at me, kissed me…”

A thumb traced over a shriveled bottom lip, black with corrosion eating away at supple flesh, stealing body and soul from within as the man had struggled - pulling his dying vessel from its final resting place in the hopes that he would be slain completely and finally put to rest. It had been a valiant effort, the Chancellor would admit, but it had never been enough.

“I thought you were in  _love_ …for a time.”

Harborer of Daemons, he moved with purpose, rising from a chest bereft of life within its lungs - brawn of his looks stained black with gelatinous matter that seeped from grotesque wounds and clung to him as though he were able to contain its fury. Both of his calloused hands held a once radiant image between them, fingertips surely able to wipe away regretful tears had the ducts still had the ability to spill them, and he admired how incredible the body’s eyes were still - though death would soon cloud them a pupiless, pitiful blue. A shuddering breath danced in the air between them, the living looking upon the dead with envy and a strange, ensnaring fondness.

“I thought you were  _beautiful, alluring_.”

Ghosting upward, silver strands were swept away, for he would not allow them to ruin the man’s vanity with unkempt appearance. And with a sigh, so sincerely insincere in his disappointment, Ardyn Izunia pressed his cheek to the Commander’s own - humming as he nosed along an unhinged jaw, his words the murmur of a lover as he breathed in the stench of death. 

“I thought you were  _mine_.”

With a gentle caress of weeping wound and gaping gash, he stood, wistful expression hardening as his gaze followed with great fascination the remainder of man; head lolling to the side in a rather childish manner as he became thoughtful, his every word a choice he would not waste.

“Perhaps you still are.”

Steps away from a perfectly kept bed, he looked upon the iron chains he had tossed about the once pristine floor, rusted with age and stained with silt and human remains. The Chancellor thought silently of the four within the Audience Hall, dancing far off of the ground below, the Waltz Macabre their choice of tune as they hung devoid of life and empty of dreams. How wonderful it had been, how satisfying it  _would_  be to enjoy the visage of Noctis Lucis Caelum, shattered by the view of his masterpiece. 

And all the same, he would enjoy a morsel of his own. 

“I was terribly fond of you, my little rosebud.”

The chains felt heavy within his hands as he stole them from their place of rest, the sound of metal sinking into the grooves below like the shriek of a beast, embedding scars in their wake. “It truly was so very shameful of you, how you took matters into your own hands.”

How he recalled each and every maneuver his Commander so meticulously planned and executed, how the other believed he was working right under his nose, those above him unaware of the treasonous actions that would one day catch them off guard - but Ardyn had always known, always knew that each and every time they spoke, it was but a ruse for the man’s true intentions. What his late comrade had failed to comprehend, however, was that the Chancellor was no imbecile - hardly ignorant to his conspiracies, however brilliant they were.

“You thought you’d tricked me, you thought me a fool.”

Each and every time he and Ravus Nox Fleuret had spoken, it was an illusion on both their parts.

“How you thought you were always one step ahead.”

Every kiss, every touch of the hand, every promise spoken between gritted teeth–

“You were wrong, of course. I always had the upper hand.”

And yet, why was it that his chest bloomed with a pain unbeknownst to a being such as he?

“Still, there was something within these old bones that believed you would have at least stood by my side, in the end. Can you grasp such a thought? You had me  _wishing_.”

The thought was discarded, much like the rest of the Imperial Army.

“There was so much revenge to be had and you, dear Commander; you were so very full of vengeance.” 

The tall ceilings were of no issue to a man such as he, for the hanging of shackles was a simple task after having moved worlds and healing souls of their scourge - and as he’d tethered the last with the help of weapons from the old armiger, testing his pulley, a heavy sigh rattled his ancient skeleton. “Your blade was made to taste the flesh of those who played part in bringing about your scorn.”

A flicker of his wrist summoned a favored steel, gleaming with light Eos no longer knew, fashioned by men long buried and decayed within the earth as he stepped around the hanging restraints - standing above the High Commander once more. And with movement so quick, the tip of his steel was pressed to the man’s exposed flesh, the once perfect complexion splitting instantaneously - no longer able to hold its form when held by the scourge.

“You could have watched them crumble with me, watched the light in their eyes fade away like dying stars.”

How he wished to drag his sharpened blade across the corpse once more, observe as every organ he was composed of spilled across the floor of Insomnia’s Citadel; how he wished to take that fragile heart, sensitive to rejection and guilt, and hold it tenderly within his hands until the air withered it to half its size.

The Chancellor steeled himself; such desires would not be fulfilled today.

“You could have taken back what was yours… Or have you forgotten your beautiful mother?” The weapon was soon dust, and his arms spoke before him, always a dramatization of his words. “She had such grace, and within her, the will of fire.” 

He summoned a flame then, small and controlled within his palm, and he watched it with fascination - as though he were looking into the eyes of the Queen herself before he curled his fingers into fist, effectively killing the magic. “It is too bad that it was fire itself that snuffed her flame.”

His hands reached downward to grasp the man’s coat, pulling him upward with the slightest of grunts before dragging him to the hanging chains. “It is a pity. I thought you’d had the will to live.” Ravus had fallen to the chilled floor, facedown and mangled as the immortal vessel above him took hold of one of the iron tethers, forcefully dragging the only limb he had left to them - the metal digging into royal raiment as it was fastened and he was let go of once more, positioned for much simpler attachment.

“You could have been  _here_ , right at this very moment, alive and well - for as long as you could have been, of course.” Capable hands wrapped a second chain around a still torso, so tight that it would steal breath had there been any left to take. “The scourge would have still devoured you.”

Somehow, there was an underlying tone of melancholy he brought about himself, and the Chancellor shook his head - a mirthless chuckle accompanying a ludicrous thought. “Yet, you would have lived years more, had I restored you.”

That he would have healed the pitiful Commander was truly a humorous notion in itself, that he would have used the power of the Astrals - beings whom made him and proceeded to then turn him away - in order to save one man…why, it was insanity, for he was no saint despite the world being composed of angels and stardust. Yet, he believed he would have, if just for the amusement of ten more years.

“You would have died with purpose.”

So long as there was a body in his midst, he would be sure that his beloved would be bound to the physical world as he was bound to iron, heavy limbs now held by manacles - a trophy for his collection. And upon standing, he slowly made way to his pulley, taking the rust in his hands.

“You betrayed me. Don’t you know how that cleaved my poor heart in two?”

The Chancellor hummed then, hummed a tune from ages long past as the sound of dragging metal filled the bedchamber, lifting from the ground tender flesh that rightfully belonged to him - lips a wild grin as he sung the melody of the Astrals. And he continued to sing, for he would not dare end a song of prayer before his delicate Ravus soared above the ground, just high enough to remain upright and low enough to be worshipped tenderly.

“It is alright, my love.”

The shackles were wound around the bottom post of the bed, its heavy frame securing the dead weight it held and the only living being within the Citadel looked to his work with pride, taking his time in meeting the hanging remains - placing a hand to Ravus’ chest as he did so. Fingertips ghosted along the frayed collar, resting upon shoulders that had once carried heavy burdens and a decade of unhappiness upon them.

“I had thought you’d perhaps wish to hang beside your beloved sister, but then, I thought…”

An ear was pressed to a weeping cavity, as though it were possible to hear the rhythm of a heartbeat long after blood had ceased to race through threading veins, as though there were still life within a broken ribcage.

“What better place than where you belong?”

The Chancellor whispered against discolored flesh and mutilated material, not at all bothered by the taste of decline upon his lips that he trailed along the Commander’s collar in an achingly unhurried manner, a kiss pressing itself to deceased pulse as hot breath feathered against the departed - words gasping, shamefully so as he held tightly to a slim waist, mirroring the grasp upon his shoulder.

“With  _me_.”

His lips explored the column of his throat, coming to give silent praise to a sharp jaw. “It is a shame that you will be forgotten in ten years’ time.” Muffled he was, speaking against the taut, leathery chin that he wished still held the same softness it had when the man was alive - cold and unfeeling, ugly and twisted as his jaw had long since gone slack, forever frozen in woeful expression.

“But I promise, darling Ravus…” 

Hands slid along the broken body, grasping sunken cheeks as his lips descended upon an almost lover’s own, gentle in their plight as they tasted him once more.

“With the last of my humanity, I will mourn you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated!


End file.
